Sunday, May 29, 2011

I'm sitting here eating chocolate chips from the bag. But for balance I have a bottle of vitamin water. It is probably best that I don't consume any alcohol this weekend...keep my wits(and I'm at the end of them) about me.

This is the weekend I am at my older daughter's house to take care of my grandson while his parents take a mini vacation to Niagara Falls to celebrate their anniversary. I came here, figuring it's easier to care for a baby on his own turf. And it's been good. Last night ran rather smoothly, my Bruins won the hockey game and advance to the Stanley Cup Finals(how calm that looks on paper...last night I was weeping for joy and dancing around like a cat hopped up on nip..but I digress).

Then at 5am the baby woke. Wide awake. It was done. 4 hours of sleep and up she(me) rises. So we got up. He had some food and then the purpose for the awakening became clear. Poop. Yep. So we had a talk where I told him from now on poop was not allowed but he negotiated it down to only allowed between the hours of 8am to 8pm. He's a good negotiator ,that kid. Because I really think no poop whatsoever is preferable.

Then he went back to sleep at 6:30 am and I was wide awake after drinking several cups of coffee. A nap when he napped later that afternoon fixed things up and all was going well until dinner. See, the little girls of mine, well, they usually have some supervision. But mommy being busy with a baby, that made for all sorts of interesting possibilities and with a house full of toys from the daycare on the main floor ,cyclones Sophia and Martina spread mayhem and Lego from one end of this place to another.

Then the cat pooped on the floor.(See why no poop whatsoever would be a GREAT rule?) Then the dog had to go outside. But the baby got fussy. So I put him to bed. And the entire time the girls are running around like maniacs and the baby who was asleep, woke up. So we start all over. Another bottle. Another rockabye. Another let the baby explore a little because he's just. not. tired.

But by then I am. And meanwhile I hear from upstairs, some noises that seem a little loud for the rather small cat that lives here. But I'm too busy to go see. Kids need to get ready for bed. Baby is getting fussy. Ouch I stepped on an electrical cord. Then a block. It's getting rough. If I can just get baby to bed. If I can just get the girlies to bed. Sigh.

And finally, all is quiet. I go upstairs and all kids are sleeping. I breathe a sigh of relief. But there is a rather odd thumping from the bedroom. I go in and the cat is flipping freakin' out! He's ballistic. And I go in the bathroom and there is the cause of all the craziness. He had found a stash of catnip! A rather large stash. Every item along the counter top is on the floor. There are sprinkles of the pungent herb from one end to the other of the sizable bathroom and the stoned out of his tree tabby is rolling in it like a pig in...mud. Yeah, mud.

Do you know that you can't clean catnip? You have to vacuum it because it just kind of moves around but the kids are sleeping so it has to wait. There is catnip on my feet from walking through it and suddenly my feet are very attractive to catzilla. I'm thinking of staging an intervention! I'm considering cat rehab. It is very quiet here now except for kitty. I'm told that whenever she partakes of the "nip" she has an aversion to closed doors so right now she is heaving herself against and tucking her paws under and rolling around like crazy in front of the bathroom door. I've cut off her supply so that eventually she crashes. I'm hoping she does soon...at least a little cat nap.

So, I drank the beer last night to celebrate the win. But tonight I just wanted a cookie. A chocolate chip one ,to, you know, take the edge off. But I settled for just the chocolate chips. My teeth hurt from the sugar and pomegranate blueberry vitamin water does not go with chocolate chips but what the heck, I survived.

So. There it is. A day in the life...how I long for the quiet days when I went to the bar every Saturday night! A nice reasonable bar fight is what I need!

One thing to note. While the day seemed all domestic and boring I was approved as a contributor for an international online magazine that is starting in June. It's a great gig, I get to write two articles a month of any kind about Newfoundland. I can feature a town, write a music review, interview cool people and get paid a little to do so! Is that really a job? Not even remotely! Watch for information and links to the magazine soon!

There is such pleasure in the kids and the mundane and the ridiculousness of the day that it brings a smile. I let the dog out a few minutes ago to discover that it's foggy. It felt good. I remembered an old love from my early twenties. I always think of him on nights like this when we first kissed barefoot in a blanket of fog. I had forgotten him for a long time. I wonder if someday, twenty years from now someone will mention catnip, or I'll taste a chocolate chip, will the sights and smells and wonder of this simple night come back with the same vivid force.

I certainly hope so. Because even memories of the simple nights. Even those of a silly stoned cat that makes you laugh at the ridiculous, or the rush of a new lovers kisses, bring smiles that make life ever perfect and ever joyful.

Cherish your memories. They are the markers of your life, the clues to how well you've lived it and how on purpose you've been. If mostly you smile at your memories, you're on the right track. I hope you smile.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

I also have zits. It's not pretty. I put on make up and red lipstick and pretend that I don't look like Big Marsh covered in partridge berries(only the Newfoundlanders, specifically the Change Islanders will get this reference but I'm using it anyway) , but I think it's just the change in the weather because summer is coming!

Yes! I love summer! Zits and all! I've been walking, working on my tan, enjoying every day! Oh the glorious sun! I am thinking of having an indoor sun installed in the fall. I cannot take another sun-free winter. Of course there is the Jamaica plan(I want to visit the magic fire water place) but still, a trip to a sunny destination isn't as good as having a nice warm sun installed in the living room. Just sayin'

I think this may be another go nowhere, means nothing, boring blog post.

But wait. Maybe I do have something going on..what did I say at the beginning? Oh yeah, I have issues. This is actually what I saw on a lady's shirt while I was picking up the kids from school. It made me smile. Bright red tee with white lettering across the sizable chest of the lady. Perfect. I want one.

I will never buy one of course but what will happen is you'll find this tee shirt in one of my books eventually. As a writer, Im always mindful of different things I can incorporate into my stories to make my characters more real, to transport you into their lives, into their very skins at times with my descriptions.

Quite frequently the moment somebody learns I'm an author they tell me "I have a story" and I always believe them because, frankly, everybody does. Today somebody told me a little story of something that had happened to them as a child. It wasn't horrific or violent or anything. Basically it was a small-minded mean-spirited thing that hurt the child. An extreme case of bullying. It got me thinking, what makes a person so mean and I became fascinated about creating a character based on what little knowledge I have of the person.

I decided this new character would fit perfectly into my horror novel. The one that's been taunting me from a folder on my desk for about a month. Since I have done the outline for the love story and it's going to be next winter's project(sorry folks) and since the horror book will be half the size of the love story, and because I have issues that need to be addressed, I'm going to start on that instead.

My friend was a little surprised. Writing horror? Really? You? I smiled to myself. Oh yeah, I have a very creepy dark side. I like to think I have it under control in my life but in my imagination I can inflict all sorts of horror upon those who have wronged me! Of course I get my characters to do it to those who have wronged them but...well...I'm the god of my characters so we are of one ilk right?

I haven't decided if I'll outright murder him or torture him first for hurting this little girl. There might be more to learn from the torture bit. We shall see how much he pisses me off in the course of the writing.

You know, I also think, I should be straight up. A lot of you will end up somewhere in the pages of a book at some point. I am constantly looking for bits of characters, inspiration for new characters, descriptions of physical appearance and most of all interesting people to base my characters upon. I also like cool names. Yes you will end up in a book. And if you're mean to me your character won't survive it. (Told you I have issues!)

Don't worry, names and places are always changed to protect the innocent. And the guilty.

But how will I write horror. I live so happily. So free of conflict and hate. So peaceful and loving an existence. Wait. My children read this. I better come clean. I am as ordinary as air and completely human and flawed. I work against it but I have, as I've said before, issues!

Here is a little sample of something I wrote today based on somebody I know really well.

She picked up the wedge of lime and plopped it in the glass on top of the ice.

"Mother fuckin' mother of Jesus" she muttered before she stuck her finger in her mouth and looked around to see if the kids were in the room. She took it out and looked at the cut, remembering her anger at whoever had put the cleaver in the utensil drawer.

"They're trying to kill me,"she sighed as she twisted the top off the club soda bottle, the stinging finger outstretched. The explosion hit her straight in the face drenching the front of her white tee shirt.

"Son of a Bitch." This time she spoke louder, accentuating each word, as she rushed the squirting bottle to the sink. She giggled then. What would they think, she wondered, her readers...if they could see her now.

This is how I'm writing horror...the character above...such an ordinary scene...yet...there is a cleaver...

See how easy it is to make something ordinary into something potentially horrific? This character giggled so you probably aren't expecting her to go crazy. But what if I change just that one thing...and you know that scene was me...and it's all true...OK I was wearing a black tee shirt but creative licence is allowed...but that will tell you...that I do indeed have issues.

That is me and my rampant imagination. The best horror is when you set somebody in the scene, transport them with your description into a regular ordinary place and have extraordinary and horrific things occur.

This is so much fun as a writer. I giggled at my ridiculous situation and cleaned it up grateful it was club soda and not some sticky pop. Perhaps though my character will be in a different place and that stinging finger will be the final , straw! You can imagine where that might lead. I won't write it here. I don't feel like cleaning up blood on the blog, although...I've read that club soda removes bloodstains...interesting coincidence uh?

Now I have to get in touch with my inner demon. Oh my but this is going to be a delicious summer!

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Don't inhale simply to stay alive. See, hear, taste, touch and feel life. Take charge of yours and live it to the fullest measure. Carolyn R. Parsons

Saturday, May 21, 2011

It is with a heavy heart that I write this post. I fully intended that this blog would go on for many years but Harold says no. And if Harold says no then it must be so right? No not my father Harold. The other guy. Yes I know there are quite a few Harolds around but I'm talking about Harold from the Bible.

Here is the thing. People are talking about the rapture like there's no tomorrow.(totally stole that and would give credit if I knew who said it first. Seriously funny!)

I have read the Bible but I must have missed the book of Harold Camping. But he must be in there. It's all over the news and the internet. And he has a mathematical formula that he used to figure all this out. He used MATH folks. That's smart! I googled because I am google master and queen of the world and so I must know these things.

See, Harold announced last week that the Rapture will occur May 21, 2011. It was originally scheduled for September 1994 but passed without incident. Oops..he is a prophet, not a mathematicician. Silly Harold.

Here is the formula. It's..um..remarkable.

1.The number 5 equals “atonement”, the number 10 equals “completeness”, and the number 17 equals “heaven”.

2.Christ hung on the cross on April 1, 33 AD. The time between April 1, 33 AD and April 1, 2011 is 1,978 years.

3.If 1,978 is multiplied by 365.2422 days (the number of days in a solar year), the result is 722,449.

Thus, Camping concludes that 5 × 10 × 17 is telling us a “story from the time Christ made payment for our sins until we’re completely saved.”

See. Math. That proves it. Now...I had no idea that the number 5 equals atonement. No clue that 10 equals completeness and 17 equals heaven. Obviously there are huge gaps in my mathematical knowledge. I ain't no brainiac like Harold I reckon. I do know that 8 is the symbol for infinity though..shouldn't there be an 8 in there somewhere? Uh...what do I know..I'm no prophet.

Anyway at 6pm EST. the he shall come to judge the quick and the dead. I wonder where I fall? I'm not dead..but since I hit my forties I'm not all that quick either. Perhaps I'll speed up from the adrenaline of apocolyptic terror. We shall see.

So anyway, Harold says it is true, so it must be. He is the prophet and he's only been wrong the once. That other time when he did the math wrong. He's got it down now for sure. I wonder what went wrong that time, perhaps he forgot to carry the one somewhere. I do that sometimes. No worries Harold!

So now, back to practical matters. What do I do for the rest of the day. Well I figure I better blog because I know all of you are out there, awaiting the end of times going, this wouldn't be so hard to take if Breeze would just blog. So I'm doing it for you. Because I care. I'm like that.

I also took stock of how things look for me and I think perhaps the saviour is gonna shuffle his feet, look a bit sheepish and say, "Sorry Breeze, you're one of the doomed, can't take ya" and you can bet I'm gonna ask why. That's the way I roll. I'll tell him, I give to charities, I practice unconditional love to the best of my abilities, I try to spread a message of tolerance and good will and service to human kind, I love people and the earth and animals. I took the do not kill message to the extreme and don't eat animals. I wrote a novel whose underlying theme is the acceptance and tolerance of all spiritual beliefs.

And he's gonna feel bad but I know he'll avoid my eyes and say "but you didn't go to the right church" and I'll say "which one is the right one?" and He'll say "the Church of Harold, duh" and I'll say "but my father's name was Harold" and He'll say "sooo close, but wrong Harold" and shake His head sadly, because you know He wants me to come. Jesus got wine, made it himself and He knows I'd be fun at a party. But I will accept that and say, "OK, JC." and we'll high five and He'll carry on to the flock of the Church of Harold, just a little sad. I didn't want to make the saviour sad darnit. Amen.

So, here I sit, having a coffee on my front porch, friggin doomed. The sun is shining today. I was hoping to have a tan before Jesus came but this has been a really wet and rainy spring. I won't be wasting this day doing housework, no way. OK. I threw in one load of laundry out of habit but I'm not folding it. I made my bed but that was before I remembered the Apocalypse.

Perhaps I should see if I did everything on my bucket list before the end of times. Wrote a book, yep. Flew a plane. Check. Did some fun stuff I always wanted to do that I can't talk about here because it is super seekrit. Oh yeah baby!

I have one regret. My Bruins were gonna win the Stanley Cup this year. Darned judgement day interfering with the playoffs. This is ridiculous. See, how can one be ready for Jesus with shit like that going down uh? I'm sinning in my mind just thinking of it.

But wait. I found something else on google. It says that today is the judgement day so only the flock of Harold get to go today to heaven. The rest of us suffer on earth for an additional 5 months. Awesome! So the playoffs are back on! I'm pretty sure Chara isn't gonna make the cut today after that hit on Pacioretty a couple months ago. I'm not seeing redemption in his eyes. Or any of the players in the NHL.

And just when I was thinking of giving Harold a call and saying, "hey buddy can you hook me up" too. Can't be off to heaven during the playoffs, oh no sirree. I'm still not doing housework though. The next 5 months will require constant diligence against zombie attack. I have to focus. I also have wine. I picked some up since I'm not invited to the heavenly wine and cheese event.

So happy rapture everybody. To the saved, happy heaven and say hey to JC for me. For the rest of us doomed to eternal torture it's get ready to fight the zombies, and the Tampa Bay Lightening. Go Bruins.
And Harold sure is lucky he's going to glory because with all those math brains he has the zombies would be all "buffet time" on him!

Oh, and I think I'm going to drive orange camaro fast today...because ,well, there just isn't all that much time for slow driving!

One more thing. If Harold's math is wrong(because I really think that there should be an 8 in there for infinity) or if the Internet is still on after the rapture, I'll be back blogging next week. After all, who else is gonna be keeping track of both the playoffs and the zombies uh?

New beginnings are not rare. You can and do begin anew every moment of your life
Carolyn R Parsons

Ha! Tricked you! No really, I promise this is about you. The me part is just to set this up. Pinky swear!
Today I did one of those silly Face Book quizzes. I usually bypass them but this one was called "Which one word describes you?" and I can't resist words so I did the quiz.

This was my result!

Resplendent.

You are seen as having a dazzling appearance. When you walk into a room, people stare. Some other words that describe you: dazzling, gorgeous and magnificent.

What an incredible word! My new favourite one for sure!

Here is my question though? How the hell did Face book know? I mean this is so accurate it's scary. It is completely and utterly uncanny how they nailed that, just dead on. I mean I am resplendent!

But enough about me. Let's get on to you now!

Imagine if youfelt resplendent. Imagine if you walked around all the time feeling magnificent, gorgeous and dazzling? Wouldn't that be amazing? What if you just knew you were. Just like you know you have dark hair or blue eyes or anything else that you know is the truth about you?

Now..what if...you actually are? Think about that for a minute. What if all this time you've been walking around under the delusion that you're just ordinary. Just a regular person with nothing special going on. What if all this time the things you thought were special~prestige, talent, giftedness, success, money, fancy clothes, cars, travel etc~ were not the things that make you resplendent? Because if they are and you don't have them or don't attain them or lose those things..does that remove your resplendentness? (is that even a frigging word? Oh well.)

So here it is. I am here to tell you that you are! You're all fucking amazing. How do I know? Well because, when I look at humans I see them differently than many other people. I approach them differently and every single time, without exception, I see a magnificence that is mind blowing.

You see, you people(just like me) go around and do all sorts of odd and funny things, behave in all sorts of crazy ways. But the motivation is always the same. You do these things in an effort to be happy. Because you, all of you, seek, without failure one single thing. To be happy. You only wish on your time on this earth, to find relief and joy in life. In addition to that, I know, that without exception, every single one of you has the capacity in every single second, to find that joy without doing one single thing except knowing and feeling it!

Here is the remarkable thing about you. You all have, inside of you, the capacity to be happy without doing a damned thing. You don't need any of the stuff you think you need to be happy. Happiness is a choice. Once you know that you are resplendent, just as I know you are, then you will just be happy because it is impossible to be resplendent and not be happy about it.

How do I know this? Because I have proof of it. I live it. I also see it in many people who are in my life.

Do you think I'm happy because everything in my life is perfect? I can hear you out there saying "easy for you, your life is so wonderful" and I say, yes it is. But not because of anything I have or own or do or accomplish. Not because I have money or power or a nice car or beautiful children or a great family or a I wrote a book. These are all nice things but they're not why I'm happy.

I am happy because I know, just like Face Book knows, that I am resplendent. Who knew that Face Book was such an oracle of truth! This is way better than Farmville!

Seriously. Have you ever paused a moment and just thought about the miracle that is you? You have a consciousness, a mind, the ability to love and create children and to walk on this amazing planet and not float off into space. You are surrounded by billions of other miracles just like you. There are beautiful plants and trees and oceans. The earth is resplendent. The universe is resplendent and the fact that you are here, a miracle amongst miracles is reason enough to be happy!

And wow! YOU got to be human! You get to taste water and feel the sun on your skin. You get to smell a flower and create art and read books. You get to fly in airplanes and hold hands and make love! Yes. YOU get to do all of that.

So don't try to tell me you're not resplendent. You can't convince me you aren't no matter what you get up to!

If I had one wish it would be for every person on the planet to just know this. And for them to know that all of those around them are as well. To know that they are incredible and a downright miracle. I think it would change the world.

You ARE resplendent. You have a dazzling appearance. When you walk into a room, people stare. Some other words that describe you: dazzling, gorgeous and magnificent.

At least that's what you are when you walk into a room I'm in. And remember, I'm the self-proclaimed Queen of the World.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Got your attention didn't I? I knew you couldn't resist. And it's the truth. I'm letting you know this now..this is very very important.

The Boston Bruins are playing another round in the playoffs! See? Said it was important! YES. They creamed Philadelphia(my most hated team on planet earth btw). It all starts tomorrow night and they will be playing against the Tampa Bay Lightening..a great team..but we can't lose to a team from a state that doesn't ever get ice..that would be sooo embarrassing. No my Florida friends, Lord Stanley's cup will not be getting a Florida vacation.

Meanwhile The San Hose Sharks will play the Vancouver Canucks and then the final for the cup will be decided by the winners of each series. I"m hoping for a Vancouver-Boston final so that it's a "win..not so bad to lose situation" for me. But I've been a Bruins fan since I was 4 and that's where my first loyalty lies.

So..what other important stuff do I have to talk about? I had a stalker on face book. She's gone. Had to block her. I think she was mentally ill but I am not qualified to fix that. I had to ban her when she became too intrusive too fast. I feel bad. But after talking to mutual face book friends, she had done that to them. She saw no problem with the boundaries she was crossing and that isn't good.

Then just yesterday I had some other girl (I think, good have been a guy) posing as a Newfoundlander join my face book but I figured out she wasn't one when I noticed both her and her fake boyfriend had no fellow Newfoundlanders on their friends lists. That just isn't possible. I completely understand why people would want to fake being a Newfoundlander though. It is a fun condition to have. I just don't know why they wanted to join my face book unless it's for the party.

Oh yeah, tonight. The party. I have no plans. It's Friday the 13th. I do not have paraskavedekatriaphobia(google that) so I'm celebrating. I'm home alone sort of. I have beer. I'm putting the kids to bed early and having a face book/MSN/Youtube/Skype party. Please feel free to join me. Unless you're a fake Newfoundlander. It actually is a lot of fun.

I think that's all the important stuff. Saturday night is Hockey Night in Canada. You know where I'll be then. Glued to the screen watching every moment.

It seriously is the most important thing I have going on right now. And somehow, that's a relief. The simple stuff. The kids. The sunshine. Writing a little poetry, puttering around the house, baking bread and cookies, taking pictures of the tulips shooting up the front of the house. Nice to enjoy our last few weeks here and to relish the thought of being in Newfoundland in just six short weeks.

And I still have hockey!

Go Bruins!

Have a great day!

Rejoice in the simple moments, love who you love, be who you really are and life will be good

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Last night I sat at the front of the stage at a little table with a Guinness and a good friend and we watched Sean McCann and Jeremy Fisher perform. Sean had a guitar and his bodhran. Jeremy had his guitar and a harmonica. That was it. It was perfect.

For those who don't know, Sean is one third of the band Great Big Sea. Back about 15 years ago I became a huge fan of GBS and travelled all over Ontario, into the US and even Newfoundland to see them play. I spent all but one show in the front row(I was in second row for that one). This was an entirely different thing though. Sean is a folk musician and songwriter in his heart and the desperately wild shows of GBS back in those days consisted of long lines with no bathroom breaks and squished hands and feet, a little molestation by drunken concert goers and much frantic fun and excitement.

Last night we were in a line up of about 8 and only then because the doors were about to open. My friend didn't want the front row but the table was open and, well, I'm a front row kind of gal!

It was amazing. Because we were right at the stage it was easy to chat back and forth with the guys and Sean McCann was in the mood for conversation. And since I rarely shut up it was a match made in heaven. The highlight was when he asked if there were any Newfoundlanders and I spoke up yes. He was telling about where he came from and then asked where I was from. When I said Change Islands his eyes softened and he said "Wow, gorgeous place, it's beautiful there" and he told the audience "she's from a much more beautiful place than I am" and I had to agree with him somewhat. In my opinion, Change Islands is the most beautiful place on earth.

Lately I've been caught up in music a lot. Live music. I always have music playing. And recently a few of my poems have been set to music, the first in February by my friend April Lindfors and then recently two more by Canadian folk musicians including well known Newfoundland entertainer, Terry Rielly. Whether they will be recorded is yet to be seen but I love that my poetry is considered good enough to be made into a song and it's particularly gratifying since I have no particular musical skills at all. I do have a deep love for music though, and I guess, being a poet, a great admiration for great songwriting specifically.

I've always been a small venue girl, preferring bars and pubs and outdoor festivals to theatre performances. I've seen Jim Cuddy at the Horse Shoe in Toronto and enjoyed the intimacy of that and the opportunity to chat as well. And oddly enough, seeing Sean all those years ago at all those shows, I never talked to him. Last night it was like seeing an old friend and when I received a tweet from him this morning saying "Carolyn, thanks for rockin' the front row" I smiled, remembering all those long ago front rows I've rocked in the past!

Songs are also like old friends. I cannot hear Sweet Caroline without thinking of my friend Dona who sang it to me every time we saw each other after a separation. Some people have many songs that remind me of them and give me a smile. Great Big Sea got me through some hard times and I can't hear their recording of "Lukey's Boat" without tapping my toes and smiling. I think music is the human race's best gift. Not everybody enjoys art or reading or hockey or any of the many other creative pursuits we all have inside but almost everybody loves music. We may like different genres but we all love music. So many of the special times of our lives are bookmarked by the song that was playing at the moment. So often songs transport us back to that place, that time, the emotion we were feeling while it played as a backdrop for whatever we were doing and whoever we were with. It gets embedded like a gemstone in a special piece of jewelry that you take out and admire and wear, then tuck away until you're ready to remember again.

I remember once reading somewhere that we all have music inside us. But in this quote it meant the music that we were meant to play in our lives. We are meant to do that thing that makes our heart dance and sing. For me it's writing, for others it may be painting or sculpting or photography and, yes, even actual music.

I had a face book friend who used to spend his days and nights playing his guitar. Last night his face book wall said "I can't believe I gave up playing guitar for years". How many of us give up those things we love the most because, well we're grown up now and we must be responsible. No we don't have to quit our day jobs but we have to incorporate our passions into our lives. Those who have a drawing in their heart must draw and those who have a book in their heart must write. It is how we become satisfied. It is our own personal song that we have to sing to be happy in this life. Find your song and start to play it. It's not about being good. It's not about doing it so others can admire it. It is to get the joy in the doing!

I'm finished with my musical excursions in Ontario for a while and in about six weeks I'll be leaving here. My next big adventure will probably be the George Street Festival in St John's this summer. Sean will be back with his band mates and Great Big Sea will perform. It's been ten years since I've seen them live, an entire decade and I've missed them. I'll be a resident then.

Sean tweeted me this morning and said "It will be good to have you back home" and it sure will be good to be back. I certainly looking forward to rockin' the front row once again!

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Play the perfect music that's inside of you. You were meant to sing your song and we were meant to applaud!
Carolyn R. Parsons

I have been awake since 4am. Why do I wake up every night at 4am? This has been going on for a while. Usually I manage to go back to sleep but not last night. Nope..so on just a few hours sleep I'm a zombie. I'm also a little punchy so when my friend April was running ideas across me for catchy phrases for her Linked IN profile (she's a photographer) I got a little silly. Sleep deprivation is pretty much like alcohol to me. Anyway she didn't use any of my suggestions and I don't understand why. I thought they were excellent and I'd be likely to have my pictures taken by her but that's how I roll.(film get it? It's a joke. nope? You're all boring. Yawn.)

Here they are. Remember I was sleepy. But wouldn't you go to a photographer with one of these catchy phrases on her profile?

1. Our photographer will transform your ugly mugs into something that won't make people run screaming into the streets!

2. We use photoshop...don't diet for our portraits!

3. Even your bratty kids will sit still..thanks to the magic of liquor in their root beer!

4. Pets are welcome and we promise not to laugh at the bow on your pit bull's head even though it is stupid.

5. We promise to use lighting and shadows to your greatest advantage because, well, you're butt ugly most likely.

6. Stupid doesn't show on our pictures~promise. Well, unless that's your pet name for your husband. And even then...photoshop!

7. Weddings are our specialty and we'll photoshop(again!)your mother in law in so you don't have to invite her!

8. We also do honeymoon pictures and we'll even get interactive~if you're cute that is.(wink wink)

10. Clothing is optional. I mean you get to choose what you wear. You can't be naked. Naked is bad. Naked isn't good. No, that's just wrong. It leads to fornication and other sexy fun things. NO Naked I said!

Our website is "www.videosxrated.orgy...no....wait that's the other one..it's www dot prettypicturesnomatterhowfunnylookingyouare.org..yeah..that's the one!
I need more sleep. Yawn.

Life is meant to be lived and not taken seriously. Just sayin'
Carolyn R. Parsons

Monday, May 9, 2011

The last happy post. Because it must be annoying by now. Surely everybody is going, "holy crap, will she just shut up about being happy and just be real for a change."

I know you're thinking it. It's OK. I've been there. I've been on the end of wanting to kill someone who is all perky like a twenty year old's boobs. It's just annoying. So last one. For a while!

A comment on a previous post when it fed through on my face book notes was "I love the real you bring.... be it through life experiences or fiction"

Best compliment ever! Because I'm sure there are many people who think that the optimism and happiness cannot possibly be real.

In real life I am exactly what I present. That doesn't mean I tell every single secret of my life here in this blog or out there in the real world. You all aren't ready for that! Trust me..you're just not. But my essence, my personality, my essential self is the person on this page. I screw up a lot. Then I try to fix it. I look at things in my own unique way which includes the willingness to allow all of you to look at things in your own unique way also and know that you're as valid and as right as I am.

As for the fiction thing. Do you know a lot of what I wrote in my novel is based on real stuff? Do you also know that other things that weren't real kind of came true? Yeah, it's a little creepy but it's the honest to goodness truth. Now I'll leave it to those of you who have read or will be reading the book to decipher what is what.

There is one thing though, that people find difficult to believe about me and that is that I'm nearly always happy. I get the question a lot about how can you be happy if the world is such a crazy place, people are dying in Libya, Canada is being tossed to the right wing and coffee and gas are at record high prices.

And my answer is, no amount of my misery and sadness will make the price of coffee and gas go down, free the people of Libya and I only had one vote in the election so why on earth would I get depressed over any of it. So onward I go. Even in my own life I tend to find perspective fairly quickly from the worse situations.

My way to deal is to act. I vote, promoted my party and donate to them as well. I send gifts and stuff to my friends who are having a hard time and I burn less gas and, well, coffee consumption remains the same because it's my hot happy juice in the morning. (Should I change that line? Sounds sort of kinky...nah..bring the real right?)

I also have a trick to bring myself out of a funky mood if it strikes. And it works every time. Want to know what it is? It's my imagination and my unwavering faith that whatever I want will happen in some fashion.

Let me give you an example. A while ago I entered into a fantasy conversation about travelling the world. It was a lot of fun. Take the kids to Disney, season tickets to hockey games, homes in each of our favourite places, start in Australia, summers on Change Islands. I was a fantasy of just really incredible things. In this trip money was no option of course. It was very enjoyable. And just the mere thought of it made me happy as heck as I'm sure it did my friend.

Then after, for days, when I felt a little off or down I would go back to that conversation I would not go to the fantasy so much but to the feelings I had whenever I thought of the possibility of that fantasy. The feelings of happiness, anticipation, expectation, joy, excitement. Even just typing this I'm transported into that mood!

Now I had a choice back there. I could have finished that conversation and forgotten it after. Worse still, I could have gone into a state of disappointment. I mean it was just a fantasy after all. I could have gone into a sad place thinking that such a wonderful thing will never happen to me. That I'll never get to see the world and do all the things I want to do. But I didn't. Because what would be the point? Plus I fully expect it'll happen in some way in the future.

Some would say it's best not to live in a fantasy world because that's just asking for disappointment. I don't live in a fantasy world. I live in the real world. I live in a hopeful world where the idea of anything being possible leads me to be happy and being happy is paramount. In our time on this planet, I believe that our sole purpose is to be happy! That's it, that's all.

And it's not about the fantasy anyway. It's about the feeling!

I've touched on this before, when I said, "imagine someone you haven't seen in a long time, that you miss, suddenly showing up at your door and get in touch with that feeling." Well I wrote that one Wednesday and tapped into that happiness all week.

Here is the mystery of it all and the miracle of it. What I was personally imagining when I wrote that happened a few days later. Not the exact situation. Not the exact scenario. But the happiness it created was entirely the same. Can't tell me that you can't make your dreams come true by feeling their possibility! I didn't even realise until after that it had happened that way but it did. I'm magic!

Throw your happiest dream out there. Then let it go if you want but hang on to the happy feeling the dream brings. It'll even happen if you get over the idea that it can't but meanwhile move on with your own happy life full of expectation of good things to come.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

As the sun broke through my window stirring me from my sleep this sunny Mother's Day morning I was encouraged to rest awhile, to bask in the glory of a morning for sleeping in and being pampered. My thoughts flitted as I lay there, like the shuffling of a deck of cards and I pulled an ace. I was transported to a time of little girls in pretty dresses on a long ago mother's day. I remember my sister and I excited about doing our "parts" down at the United Church on Change Islands. I was a small girl in her Sunday finest, in a kitchen of half drunk cups of tea while my bustling mother got us ready for the Mother's Day Program.

"Which side does the flower go on? I can never remember. Left for boys, right for girls or the other. Gotta call Margaret or June, can't remember from one year to the other." My mother would say every year and every year she was right in her guess whatever it was.

On mother's day we all wore a red flower(carnation) in our dress/lapel. I'm not sure if this was a Newfoundland tradition or a Change Islands tradition. I believe it might be world wide but I'm too lazy to google. Like all traditions, there are regional variations anyway. I'm pretty sure everybody wore one though, men as well as women, boys as well as girls. The flowers were fake of course, nothing bloomed yet in Notre Dame Bay in May. And there'd be a big search for the container and then someone would get stuck with the pin and it was a big scrabble to get us all rigged out but it always happened and it was always glorious!

A white flower was worn for those whose moms had passed but in those glorious days, both my parents wore red Mother's Day flowers in their lapel because both my Nan's were alive. For all the worrying about the weather Change Islanders do, I remember sun on every mother's day. I wonder why, for surely it wasn't always shining that day!

I grew up Anglican. In a sense. I was baptised Anglican because my dad was Anglican. And I was confirmed Anglican when I was 11 by Reverend Ford(bless his heart) and that's all I know about being Anglican except for weddings. The Anglican Church didn't have a Sunday School.

My maternal grandmother was Salvation Army and was a young people's Sergeant Major in her church. I did for a time attend their Sunday school but I wasn't soldier material. Most of my memories are of attending the United Church Sunday School with Aunt June, who lived next door. Every year on Mother's Day they had a Mother's Day Program.

It happened at the church, not the Sunday School which was a separate building. The United Church is a beautiful building with two aisles and a balcony. It overlooks the main tickle and smells like old wood and ancient fabric. It has arches and a steeple and it echoes with memories and voices of a century of worship and history.

The Mother's Day program was part of the regular Service with hymns and prayers but all of the children would have memorized recitations and parts and would recite them to the congregation. It was a BIG deal. The recitations all rhymed and they were all dedicated to our mothers or mothers in general.

Sometimes if there were 5 verses in a "part" then 4 children would go up together and say their "part" and then the last verse they'd all say together. Sometimes you got to go solo. I don't remember ever doing that. I think I recall being there with my cousin Ellen and my sister Marie.

The littlest kids always stole the show with their tiny two-line recitations. I remember little boys in too tight suits climbing on the big chairs that were on either side of the alter. I recall moms or Sunday School teachers walking with the shy kids to give them some support. I have memories of somebody prompting a child whose lines slipped from their memory like a rolling marble, the trepidation in their eyes fading as the forgotten line was whispered and recollection dawned. Sometimes we had a prop to go with the verse. I remember none of them specifically but I have a collage of memories of almost everyone I know saying a part at some point.

But I remember, most of all, Mrs. Morgan. She led the Sunday School all year and every year in her finest she was there on mother's day directing us. For a long time I thought she wrote all those recitations that we spoke! How impressive! Seriously, and to come up with new ones each year was incredible. Ironically I always hoped I could learn to rhyme like that when I grew up! I think I was much older when I realised they came from elsewhere, old enough that it made sense and I wasn't disappointed. I think I was relieved that she didnt' have that kind of pressure on her!

And though she didn't write all the words, she was integral in all our lives. All of us of a certain age from Change Islands remember donning our finest and heading to that service on the second Sunday in May. All of us remember that it came together seamlessly due to her guidance of all us students. The Sunday school teachers were a dedicated bunch too, but it was Mrs Morgan who was the heart of the day. Her clear voice is as vivid in my mind now as though it were happening in this very moment. She was mother to the Mother's Day Program and mother to the Sunday School all year long. And I(and I'm sure many others) appreciate her very much.

I'm here alone now. Writing this. None of my kids are here yet but there are presents and cards and hugs and kisses to be delivered shortly. And I will appreciate every moment. But I myself long for those simple days of lacy dresses and nervous giggles, wiping mud of our pretty new shoes and whispering in the vestry about this and that. I wish my children had those kinds of memories.

Traditions are the cornerstones of the solace of memory. Traditions make a family. Traditions make a community Those precious moments made an imprint on all of us and is one of many of the things that makes all of us Change Islanders appreciate and feel bonded to each other. The common memories, the special times, our traditions that generations shared and only now appreciate.

Happy Mother's Day to all, but particularly the mothers on or from Change Islands and especially to my mom, Alice Parsons. Happy Mother's Day to my daughter Alyssa who is celebrating her first mother's day. To all my wonderful Aunts and cousins who are all amazing moms. And to Mrs Morgan who made an impression on all of us with her warmth and constant motherly love, Happy Mother's Day to you as well!

So Delicious! Hey now..I'm talking about the Guinness...yeah..that's it...photo credit: The Hussy

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Greg Hawco, Kim Stockwood, Barry Canning (photo credit: The Hussy)

﻿ If you are one of my twitter or face book followers you were likely bombarded with updates from my little adventure on the Danforth last night! That's right, the Tart and the Hussy once again hit the big city and this time we happily took along a friend, Colette who shall forever more be called the Trollop!

We arrived at our venue exactly on time by subway. A lovely Irish pub called Dora Keogh's on Danforth Ave. in Toronto. It was tiny but the pints were excellent( and plentiful since I wasn't driving!)

The gathering was in support of the Company Theatre's next production, The Test. Performers, all Newfoundlanders, were on a little stage right in front of us, except for the lovely Kim Stockwood who decided since we didn't come close enough to the stage, she'd come down close to us and performed in the middle of the pub with the audience surrounding her.

Up until last night only one female recording artist had ever brought tears to my eyes, and that was Bette Midler. Kim Stockwood's rendition of the St. John's Waltz, made her number 2. Her newest album is all traditional music and is on my mother's day wish list now!

Barry Canning, an incredibly talented singer and songwriter was on stage for the bulk of the night and played some well known covers as well as a few of his own tunes. My own particular favourite of the night was Sweet Caroline, done as well as I've ever heard "my" song sung. Lots of fun, bum bum bum!

Can't forget to mention the Newfoundland comedian, Jonny Harris. He told us about his favourite reality show on TSN. You know the one where they pit some regular guys against professional athletes just to see how it goes. He had trouble coming up with the name of it at first, then he remembered. Leaf's hockey! He was in my good books from then on. From that point on we were in stitches at his comparisons of Newfoundland to Toronto. Seriously funny stuff.

Now since the Trollop is the cousin of Greg and Allan Hawco, we hung out with the family all evening. What a fun bunch of people, most of them reside in Cambridge, Ontario, aka Bell Island west. Her famous cousin mingled around our area quite a bit, grateful for his family's support I'm sure!

In some ways it was surreal, there is Eric Peterson(of Corner Gas fame on CBC) having a chat. And a pint crosses the dance floor for host Seamus O Regan, host of Canada AM on CTV. Then the main draw, star of Republic of Doyle and co-founder of the Company Theatre, Allan Hawco is there cradling a pint of Guinness and chatting to everybody. Kim Stockwood is belting out a rendition of the classic Newfoundland song, "Now I'm sixty four." Oh how I long for those bright days, to come again once more~it was truly a down home celebration with the audience loudly joining in on the chorus and swaying to the music.

We danced, we sang, caroused, mingled, and generally enjoyed the entertainment. The Guinness was the best I've tasted west of the Duke of Duckworth. The talent in the room was unparallelled.

And it wasn't just the performers, but even the attendees. I had a chat with a lovely lady from Wesleyville to discover she was an artist. And not only is she an artist, but she's a Blackwood. If you know art at all you would be familiar with the work of David Blackwood likely and my new friend is his niece. We hit it off and became bbm friends and, of course face book friends. She lives 25 minutes away, knows my cousin and her daughter and I looked at her pictures this morning and is an amazing artist in her own right! Hi Tracy!

Now there were some seriously attractive men in this room. Good lord but this girl was twitterpated. But the highlight of my evening was a nice long chat with Kim Stockwood. We talked about music, my writing, her beautiful voice making me cry, her new album, my book, and the jewellery I was wearing.

I told her some stories, we laughed a lot and she is now the proud owner of a copy of my novel, The Secrets of Rare Moon Tickle. An avid reader, she promised she'd get right into it and let me know if she liked it. Then she knocked over her beer and I cut her off. Mudder Mary, Kim, handle your booze maid!

And then...just when I thought it couldn't get much more fun or more celebrity packed the word comes that Rick freakin' Mercer is outside! For Americans, he's kind of our version of John Stewart but with stunts. He is also a Newfoundlander as were all of the entertainers. He was mobbed and photographed. There are pictures floating around somewhere of that bit of added excitement!

All in all the Tart, the Hussy and the Trollop had a fantastic evening! I was awake a total of 22.5 hours by the time I got home last night(don't ask me why I wake at 4am these days every night) and I'm still groggy from my nap today.

The best part of it is that I'll get to watch these people (and many more) perform often when I get to NL as all but Barry Canning live there and I'm sure he'll show up as well!

I started yesterday morning with a foray into songwriting with Terry Rielly, a well known entertainer from Newfoundland. With absolutely no musical ability, that right there is proof that anything is possible! But that's a post all on it's own.

My life, at this point is so very satisfying and happy. I don't know that I've ever had more clarity, more of a sense of where I want to go and best of all, who I want to be. It's all mixed up with an absolute certainty that I'll get there and be that person. It seems every dream I dare dream comes true so I might as well dream big! Impossibility never plagues me now because looking back at each day and see that the previous one was a happy and successful one and it's proof enough for me that I'm heading towards the right place.

And that place is St. John's. It calls me like a seagull on Amherst rock calls to its flock. It's time to go home. Of that I have no doubt.

Today I am back to my regularly scheduled life of raising children and cleaning the house. And you would think it would bring me down but the smell of fresh baked bread, the laughter of little girls and the promise of a very quiet evening at home writing, having a cold Canadian and watching the hockey game is about as good as it gets for this girl with her big dreams and her simple daily life. It's all about balance and at this point in time, it's all just about perfect.

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Welcome to my blog. This is a place where I can stretch my writing wings and share my thoughts. I believe that truths can be found in all sacred scriptures but are generally not found behind church doors. I believe we are all on a journey to enlightenment and that all roads lead home. I was asked to state my six word motto. I came up with "Easy come, easy go, walk on".Thank you for reading my writings. I welcome you to comment at the bottom. I love to know who is reading.